The Proving
by zevgirl
Summary: Where has his Warden disappeared to after their long and stressful battles in the Deep Roads? Zevran/f!Cousland


_This was written for the Valentine's Day swap at People of Thedas on Dreamwidth. Thanks to Biff McLaughlin for the beta job. Enjoy!_

**The Proving**

"Where's the Warden, eh? Too cocked to leave her cushy bed?" Oghren's hearty laugh boomed across the table as he slid a tankard of ale towards the approaching bard. Zevran pulled out a chair and motioned for Leliana to join her companions at the private table where they sat in Tapster's. "Heh, _cocked_. Did ya get that one, pike-twirler?"

"I am _right_ here, Oghren," Zevran said with a sigh.

"Oh, yeah."

"Be careful, Leliana. You know that dwarven ale isn't truly ale at all, yes?" Zevran's face wore such a look of disgust that Leliana winced as she glanced at the drink.

"Um, yes. Thanks Oghren, but I'll stick with the honeyed wine. Anyway, Marlie didn't answer when I knocked, and she wasn't in Morrigan's room either. I assumed she was here."

Three sets of eyes darted around the tavern searching for any sign of the fiery rogue. Barely sparing a sideways glance, Zevran was not surprised his Warden had chosen not to celebrate the crowning of King Harrowmont, which signaled the end of their stay in Orzammar.

"She's probably off admiring the Hall of Heroes again. Maybe there, she can ignore the constant humming," Alistair said in an ale-soaked mumble. "Personally, I think those statues are a bit creepy."

A recurring thought drifted through Zevran's mind. _She must be biding her time with altruistic pursuits again, but_ _where?_ Keeping his gaze low, he continued to spin his wine glass idly.

"Marlie has refined tastes, just like me. I think the Statues of the Paragons are beautiful, moving, poetic even. Massive stone statues with their arms raised up to the sky," Leliana sang as she threw her arms up and over her head.

"I think they keep the ceiling from collapsing, Lel." Alistair took a large gulp of ale and swished it around in his mouth. "It's not _that_ bad."

Alistair was constantly getting on Zevran's last nerve in Orzammar, and this time was no different. "Tsk. In case you hadn't noticed, Alistair, _we are underground_, in one giant cave with no need of roof support."

"Yeah, but all those stone blocks, with sharp edges... Everything is like that here, like this stone," he said, banging a fist on the table. "So hard and… _cold_."

"Eh, you're drunk. It ain't cold here, ya sodding idiot. The lava keeps everything warmer than any place topside." Oghren belted down the last of his Valenta's Red Ale and spoke up. "Keeps your bits warmer than any hands could, too!"

"I _meant _it's not… welcoming, like a home would be. I think it's actually hotter than the sun here." Alistair wiped the sweat beading on his forehead. "Anyway, Marlie can take care of herself just fine." Then he shifted his bleary eyes to the distracted assassin. "She didn't even tell _you_ where she was going tonight, did she? Smart girl."

Ignoring everything, including Alistair's dig, Zevran reflected on their time in the Deep Roads and Marlena's ever darkening mood.

By the time they had found Branka and Caridin, Marlena didn't care if they put a Dust Town beggar on the throne. Uneasy and distant, she spoke only a few insignificant words to her companions as they left the maze of tunnels with Harrowmont's crown. Darkspawn, disease, the Broodmother, and worse still, a glimpse of the archdemon, everything they experienced in the Deep Roads had in turn chipped away at her resilience, and Zevran had begun to fear the worst. Yet only Alistair had understood why she'd actually wanted Orzammar to be a place to forget until she had to remember.

Zevran had crept toward her as she sat on a bench in Dust Town and he rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. The light touch was enough to bring her out of her distant thoughts, and she looked up at him, his welcoming eyes offering comfort, strength and above all, devoted friendship. He felt a slight shudder as he touched her and he stepped away, but her eyes had beckoned him back, so he sidled up next to her, their fingers entwining as he traced small circles on her knee.

To his delight, she had smiled, _really_ smiled, for the first time in days. His Warden, the boisterous, coppery redhead he delighted in, had seemed absent until the moment that brief spark lit her eyes and turned up her lips.

"_I came here to give Zerlinda some extra coin. She said she plans to leave for the surface with her child." Her green eyes glowed with satisfaction in the dimness of Dust Town. "Isn't that great news, Zev?" _

"_Yes, I thought you might have had this notion. But enough saving the beggars and misfits, hm? You look tired, my Warden, and I swear I can hear your stomach rumbling from here."_

"_Actually, I was thinking I would enjoy one of your special massages, the one with the 'wow' finish."_

"_Now? No, I can't, no. I only came to check on you, to ask if you wanted to find the others and get some food."_

"_What is that about, Zev? You never say no. I want you to tell me what's wrong, and right now." _

"_I am just not of a mind at the moment, and I do not appreciate being browbeaten."_

"_You know that's not what I intended." He watched as she absentmindedly touched her earring before moving her hair to cover it. "Is this about us? You want it back now, don't you? I should have guessed."_

"_No, no. I want you to have it. I just… look, surely you have more important things to do other than have a go at it with your elven whoreson."_

"_Zevran! Why do you say such a thing? Tell me what's going on. I can see you're troubled and-"_

"_Can't you just leave it alone, Marlena! Brasca, you are so stubborn! Tch, forget it. I am done here."_

Zevran closed his eyes for a moment and wiped the back of his hand across his lips. "_Idiota estúpido_," he mumbled to himself.

"Zev, do you think she wants to buy something to remember her time in Orzammar? You know, like a souvenir." Leliana's chirpy call grabbed his attention and Zevran's head snapped up, his eyes widening. _A _s_ouvenir. Like a tattoo or… a scar._

"Zevran?"

"Hm? Oh yes, jewelry perhaps," he replied, distracted by his calculations.

Zevran stood abruptly, his chair screeching as it slid backward. "I think I shall go for a walk, stretch my legs a bit as this conversation has grown tiresome."

"Hey elf! You can find what ya need down by the entrance to the Deep Roads. You know, someone to help ya buff yer statue. Heh heh."

"You seem a bit jealous, Oghren. If you want to join me, you need only ask," he joked, grabbing a cloak from the seat back of an unconscious drunk.

After a hasty flourish and bow, Zevran and Oghren exchanged knowing glances. The abrasive dwarf may have been a drunkard and a terrible husband, but he knew more about the look in Zevran's eye than anyone else at the table.

Oghren shrugged, half-grinning. "Eh, just get outta here before I'm too drunk to say no, you swishy nug-licker." Zevran nodded and disappeared into the crowded tavern.

With a liquid belch and a wave, Oghren called to the barmaid. "Corra! Another round!"

* * *

The Proving Armsman had offered the Warden and her companions "unofficial" fights in the Orzammar Proving after hours. While no one in the party was particularly interested after the battles they had endured in the Deep Roads, Marlena was stimulated by the idea and she'd argued with Alistair over his lack of willingness to fight at her side. Marlie had told him they could earn some extra coin, but in reality, their stay in Orzammar had earned them more money than they thought possible. Only Zevran had agreed to go along with her if she decided to fight, saying that it was _in his_ _best interest _to ensure Marlena didn't get herself killed over a few silver pieces.

Zevran had watched the last two fights she'd won, comfortably settled in the stands reserved for the lower castes, mostly servants and surface dwellers. Black-cloaked and hunched over, he had remained unnoticed among the slightly shorter dwarves.

She had fought with every ounce of strength; every bit of anger transferred to her weapons as her fierceness came alive, slicing into the armor and flesh of each opponent. She had battled until her bones ached and her body bled, exerting only enough energy to stay light on her feet and achieve victory.

As he watched, Zevran feared only one thing, something that none of the spectators would ever believe; his Warden may be fighting for absolution. This manner of ruin, Zevran could not allow.

"_Brasca_," he swore to himself. "This woman will cause my end one day." He shook his head and mumbled to himself for a few moments before making a rapid exit from the stands to stride towards the antechamber.

Distracted admirers of the fights milled about the area as Zevran approached the entrance to the Proving Master's balcony. The crowd inside erupted in applause and cheers as the announcement was made.

"Piotin has been defeated! The winner is the Grey Warden!"

Zevran's gaze fell upon the Proving Master as he marched out the large stone door. "A word if I may, my good man."

"Atrast vala, friend. I've been hoping some new blood might be interested in earning a bit of extra coin this night." The Master eyed Zevran from his pauldrons down to his boots.

"In point of fact, I was wondering if I may be able to _pay_ my way into a proving match."

"Pay? You've got it wrong." He shook his head, puzzled. "We pay _you_ to fight, if you win that is."

"Yes, I understand that is the customary way of things. But you see I wish to fight the Grey Warden." Zevran's gaze was intense and challenging, more for show than anything else.

"You look familiar. Wait, haven't I seen you among the-"

"My name is Zevran Arainai, or Zev, if you like. Alas, I am only looking to increase my net worth," Zevran drawled.

"You're the Antivan. I see now. Your _friend_ is no damsel, and certainly not in distress. Come and see for yourself."

The Proving Master led Zevran to the officiating balcony over-hanging the fighting grounds. Marlena's eyes rested on the entrance, waiting for the next challenger to emerge. At closer range, Zevran realized she was more bloodied than he'd thought, and she was beginning to tire. Her shoulders were somewhat slumped, her daggers dangling from her hands as one arm was held closer to her side, most likely tending an wound. Even in her condition, he knew she could out-fight most of the dwarves entered in the match, but not for much longer and certainly not without a healer.

Zevran leaned closer to the Master's shoulder and spoke low. "I believe the man who consents to such an irregular course of events may _benefit greatly_."

Craning his neck around, the man raised his eyebrows at Zevran. "Normally, once the fighting begins the roster is final and no changes may be made."

"Each fight begins anew, does it not? Surely, the crowd will not be displeased with a more dramatic and exceptionally skilled fighter and showman entering the match. If you allow me to fight the Grey Warden, I will donate generously to your cause." Zevran handed him a leather pouch laden with coin.

As he held the bag, The Master gave it a quick shake before concealing it with his fist. "A fine donation, ser." He stroked his braided beard in thought, shifting his eyes around the mostly empty hallway. "All right, I will accede to your wish."

"You will not regret your decision."

The Master stuffed the coin-filled purse into his pocket. "Whatever you say, friend. It's your hide." He pointed a stubby finger at the way in to the proving grounds. "Run down to the entrance and I will announce the _special_ substitution to the spectators." The Master's perceptive smirk grew into a toothy grin as he patted his pocket. Zevran nodded, a serious expression washing over his previously genial face. Then he sprinted away.

As the Master announced the fight, Zevran burst onto the field in a flurry of gleaming steel and acrobatics, much to the crowd's amusement. Jumping to his feet after a forward tumble, his eyes fixed on his lover. At that moment, Marlena was more surprised than angry.

"Fighting under the eyes of the Paragons of Orzammar to honor the memory of King Endrin, a member of the famed Grey Wardens, _and_ King Harrowmonts's personal champion, will fight the cunning and lethal assassin from Antiva, Zevran Arainai!"

Zevran then sprinted to stand two paces in front of her and was immediately alarmed by the bruising and swelling of her right cheek. "I am to fight you, by order of the Proving Master," he declared with his chin up, stilling the hand that instinctively wanted to reach out and caress her face.

The Proving Master gestured towards Marlena. "Grey Warden, are you ready?"

Her eyes bored into Zevran's intent gaze. Marlie was now furious. "What are you doing, Zevran? You're ruining _everything_!"

"Now, now, my Warden, this will be so much more fun than sitting in a tavern with our companions waiting for each one to fall from their stool."

"Damn it, Zev, you don't need me anymore, so why are you doing this?" Marlie demanded, her eyes hard.

"Whatever has given you that idea? I require your expertise, your unique brand of… care." Zevran squatted and made to adjust his boot.

"You lie like a dog! Get up and fight!"

He cracked his knuckles and rolled his head around his shoulders, all the while chuckling. "O-ho! Such insults! I am a thief, a killer, _a lover_, but I am no liar."

"Fine, be that way. And I won't regret cutting you down to size." Marlie looked up at the Proving Master. "Ready!"

The Master threw up his hands and bellowed to the crowd. "The last one standing will be declared the victor. Fight!"

His blades flew out from their sheaths as Zevran moved into position. "And so we begin the dance!"

Marlena's daggers were unsheathed in a similar manner as the crowd began to cheer for the Grey Warden. "This is serious, Zev. Not everything is fun and games."

Zevran shifted his position to her side. "You want serious, _querida?_ You are weak with blood loss. You are also blinded by a distinct lack of knowledge, you selfish woman!"

"_You_, with your giant ego, are calling _me_ selfish? You know _nothing_ of me!" Given her penchant for drama, Zevran overlooked her spiteful remark and shook his head. _She does not mean what she says right now. _The last thing he needed was to feel any more aggrieved than he already did.

They circled around each other several times before Marlena darted an arm out, her pale hand wrapped around the hilt of her dagger, and brought it slashing down toward Zevran's head. Zevran swung his own blade upward to parry the blow easily.

"Too slow!" he taunted.

It was a strange fight, with Zevran smiling in a way that seemed a bit flirtatious yet filled with nervous energy. Still, he was determined to have the upper hand. Marlena only had eyes for crushing Zevran's arrogance; pummeling the cockiness he wore like a crown in his attempt to bring down the champion in front of the Orzammar spectators.

Zevran was impressed with the strength of her fighting, much better than he had expected, under the circumstances. Even so, this would be an easy victory for him. Marlena, on the other hand, was frustrated with her slowness, and her vision was not as sharp as it had been when she first entered the grounds.

Time after time, Zevran parried her strikes, ducked any nearing blow, and tumbled away effortlessly as she tried to trip him up with foot-sweeps. Not once did his blade touch her armor or her flesh, careful to get just close enough to fool the cheering crowd.

Sweat and blood trickled into her eyes, clouding her vision, and it became more difficult for her to predict Zevran's movements. Combination and preemptive strikes disappeared, and her footing was heavy, her breathing labored, and she sometimes lost balance as she swung wildly at Zevran.

"Do you yield yet?" Zevran's eyes locked onto hers, his lips turned up into a small grin. "I wish to leave this place now."

"I will not… lose this fight," she answered in between gasps for air. "I cannot fail… in the eyes of the dwarves."

"Then we will make a deal, yes? Tell me what I want to hear and I shall let you win."

"Tell you what?" she panted as she weakly parried his blade. "That I'm delusional, that people _need_ _me_? That the taint hasn't driven me mad yet?"

"Tell me why you want to _live, _before the crowd jumps from the stands and kills us both."

His next strike was fast but she blocked it, summoning a defiant voice. "I never said I wanted to die!"

"No, you never spoke the words. You keep fighting, and eventually you will bleed out and everything will seem easy then, no? You wish to make the lie a truth, Marlie."

"I _know_ the truth," she asserted.

"So you know you are not the savior of one insane dwarf in the Deep Roads, or Oghren's megalomaniacal wife, or her sickened lover, and all the others who perished in the Deep Roads?"

"Yes, all lost... But it was not my duty to do so. Do you honestly think I regret my actions?"

Finally, the last of her energy was spent as she spun backward to avoid an oncoming strike.

Time seemed to move slowly. Marlena tried to turn around and defend herself again, but before she could even move, she felt a sudden numbness penetrate her body, sending her to the dusty ground. Dizzy and weak, she wobbled and scrambled to her knees, ignoring the raw pain and the blood flowing from the arm wound received in an earlier bout. Unable to focus on Zevran, her arms dropped, sending her daggers clattering to the ground as her palms hit the dirt.

Zevran hovered over her slumped body. "_Mi amiga_, many months ago I wanted to die by your hand, but you _saved_ me instead. You offered me the kind of peace I have _never_ known. And now, I shall return the favor."

"I don't need your help," she whispered, her head hanging to her chest.

He scowled at her. "And yet I wish to do it anyway, my stubborn Warden."

"Tell me why, or I will not agree to your asinine plan."

"If my telling you will end this madness, then I will say it. I… want you in my life, Marlena. Did you think that earring meant nothing? I cannot let you do this, let you die like... If I had let this continue, it might as well have been my own hand that slit your throat." He pressed the tip of his boot to her hip and gave it a push, sending her onto her back. "Now, get up."

Digging her fingers in the dust, she propped herself up and glared at him. "You don't understand, Zevran. This _place_, here, in the shadows of the Deep Roads, _here_ is where I will die someday, alone."

Icy shivers ran down his spine, her grave expression suddenly worrying him. The unsettling thought that she was keeping something from him resurfaced and exploded in his head. Zevran trembled and he wondered if she could see it, suddenly aware of a frantic need to make her understand what she did to him, what she _meant_ to him, but he was unable to express any of it.

"End this, and we shall go back to our room where you can explain further. For now, you must trust me. Get up and kick me to the ground! Do it!"

Zevran's firm voice rang in her head and compelled her to do as he commanded. The crowd went wild with jeers and taunts echoing off the walls, mostly shouting at her to finish him. She had always trusted his judgment implicitly, and the desperate sound of his words toughened her, especially knowing it was only a matter of time before the spectators would demand satisfaction. In her mind, that would be a serious embarrassment.

Gathering her strength, she palmed a dagger and pushed her hands off the ground. Now standing tall, Marlena pulled her leg back and let loose a kick directly to his groin.

"Oof!" Zevran fell to his knees clutching himself and moaning in pain. "Ah, _querida_, I meant… my stomach." Willing himself backwards, he hit the dirt with a thud. "Now your blade… at my throat… And quickly, yes? Before… the mob turns angry."

Shouts of triumph rang through the Proving as Marlena pressed the tip of her dagger to his neck.

"And the winner is the Grey Warden!"

Marlena then fell to her knees, mouthing silent words before collapsing onto Zevran's chest.

* * *

Zevran had carried her limp body back to their room with ease. At his request, Morrigan had healed most of her injuries while Marlena slept, save for a few scrapes, but Zevran wouldn't allow any other companions to see her in her current condition.

Tenderly, he had removed her armor and set about to clean the filth and blood from her body as she slept. He dipped the cleansing cloth in a bowl of warm water, wringing out the evidence of her folly after each limb was tended to, pausing now and again to touch her forehead and pace in a circle around the room.

An hour later, when he finally reached her toes, Marlena began to stir, and he tickled the sole of her foot.

"Hey, no fair," she whispered.

"That was quite a long nap, my dear. The sun will be rising soon and then we can leave this dreadful place." He placed a cup of water on the table next to her. "You must be parched."

Marlena let out a soft sigh as she stretched on the feather-stuffed mattress upon a slab of stone. Sitting up after a few minutes, she sipped some water and then crossed her arms, waiting for the dreaded conversation. She watched as Zevran removed his water-dampened shirt, tossing it onto a chair. "It is warm in here, no?" Moving to sit by her side, his tranquil expression eased some of her discomfort.

"Your wound still hasn't healed," she remarked, suddenly concerned by the red welt running across his shoulder, a parting gift from the blade of a dying hurlock.

"It is nothing," he scoffed, even as she moved closer to examine it. She brushed the wound with a finger, taking care not to hurt him. "Just another scar to match the one on my other shoulder."

Her worried look dissolved as she looked down upon her white nightdress. "You bathed me." It was not a query but more a statement borne of hopefulness.

"I did," he answered, and then after a moment's hesitation asked, "Does that bother you?"

"Of course not." She offered him an awkward smile with her gratitude. "Thank you."

"It was the least I could do for you," he managed in a hoarse whisper.

"The least? Oh Zev, I'm so sorry for not telling you sooner." Without warning, her eyes filled with tears and she quickly turned, pretending to look at the carved statue on the table next to the bed.

Zevran wasn't fooled, and he slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her chin around to face him. He could see the suffering and fatigue in her eyes as she fought the tears, and he smiled at her before pulling her against his chest in a gentle hug.

"I may be ignorant to the ways of the heart, or _clueless_, as you say. But I do know some things, my dear Warden. I know of pain and anguish, of despair, the wish to make your thoughts disappear. I could not allow you to follow the path I have walked for so long now."

"Zev, you don't understand. I know people have died by my hands, innocents, even children. I can handle those truths, it's what I've had to do. But the taint, it's more powerful than you know."

"Why do you torture yourself so, Marlena?"

"What you're thinking, that's not what led me to… ah, I should've told you this months ago." Her lips turned down, her head slowly shaking from side to side. "I can never forget how little time I have before I'm called back here. Twenty years, give or take a few, that's all I have, Zev. The taint does more than make me sensitive to the darkspawn's proximity. It's slowly… killing me. And that broodmother? If I don't succeed in getting myself killed when I come back to the Deep Roads, they'll make me into that _thing_, to breed more darkspawn and…." A lump in her throat almost made her vomit at the thought, but she pushed it away and continued, holding a trembling finger to his pursed lips for silence.

Zevran began to feel his palms sweat and his stomach flutter with concern. Marlena was not supposed to see him this way, caught off guard by emotions bubbling to the surface, eyes wild with apprehension. But he didn't stop her. He couldn't.

"You gave me the earring, said you wanted some kind of future for us," she sighed, her frown deepening. With more tears threatening, her jaw quivered as she spoke. "All I could hear were the voices; they called to me, like a song drifting from a Chantry. I just wanted some peace… I was being selfish, to think you'd want me after hearing this, so I kept it secret. And then you walked away from me anyway." Her chin dropped to her chest. "I wouldn't blame you now."

This unknown weight that she bore right from the start made him sick, and he silently cursed the Maker as he forced a slight smile and eradicated the hoarseness from his voice. "If I had known this… ah, _querida_, where the future takes us is of no consequence to me today. We are here, now, and how we live each day is what matters. Why waste time worrying about something so far off?"

"I thought you'd had enough. I thought you wanted freedom from all this."

Zevran was wracked with guilt. "You misunderstood, _mi belleza_. There was no rejection on my part. I only needed some time to think on what had passed between us, to sort out what I was feeling... what I _still_ feel. My intention was _never_ to brush you aside."

"I've always said you can tell me what you want from me, need from me. I would have listened to any explanation and I would never have judged you." She averted her gaze, unable to look in his eyes. "But I realized that it was my fault, because I've been dishonest with you. I've broken your faith in me."

"No, that is simply not true. It was not you whom I could not trust, _querida_, it was me, and I was wrong."

"It seems we've been at cross purposes, Zev." Marlena took a deep cleansing breath. "Still, you're free to leave, if that's what you desire."

"Yes, I _am_ free, and I chose to see this through to the end." He tipped his head, his eyes searching. "You understand what I have told you, yes?"

She nodded. "The end… the Blight is what must end," she said flatly. "And I have people who need me to lead. I don't want to fail them."

Zevran squinted before raising a questioning eyebrow. "Marlena, are not aware of your influence on the past and present? Alistair couldn't find his way out of a burlap sack without you, it's true. I suppose Morrigan's mother might have possessed her body by now if not for your help and you took care of Marjolaine for our dear Bard. Oghren is most definitely better off without that woman in his life. You gave Sten's life purpose, returned his soul. All this, not to mention the countless saved as we hold back the darkspawn incursion. Who is left but your mabari, hm?"

"Self-centered ass," she mumbled. "Is this your idea of a pep talk? You know damn well how I feel about you."

"After your little escapade in the Proving Grounds, I am not sure I do. Refresh my memory, please."

"You want me to profess my _love_ for you when you can't even speak the word without making a self-deprecating joke, or scoffing at what you deem idealistic?" She laughed then, a high and nervous sound.

"Yes, that is precisely what I want you to do." Zevran's words came out firm and convincing as he eyed her, ignoring the churning he felt in his stomach for fear he had pushed her too far. A risk, naturally, but Zevran needed to hear it from her lips as much as Marlena needed to declare it.

"Zevran Arainai, you make me so… _furious_," she asserted while shaking her fist. "You want to hear how I feel about you? Then listen carefully, for I can only say this once."

He waved his hand and held it out, palm open, steady. "Go on."

Silence. Only the sound of her deep shaky breaths and exhales filled the room. Following the third inhale, she captured his hand, gently pressing it to her heart, sighing as her head tipped to the side. Her shoulders dropped and her muscles relaxed. After a few blinks in thought, her eyes slowly glazed with unbidden tears.

"These things you make me say, Zev." Crushing his hand against her chest, her grip tightened possessively. "It is only you who gives me strength when I'm tired and warms me when I'm cold. I long to melt against you when you whisper in my ear, to feel your hands on me, your arms wrapped around my shoulders every second of every minute." She spoke faster then, steeling her resolve. "I want you to make love to me until we drop from exhaustion, and then do it all again, day after day, night after night. I want you… always."

Zevran slid his hand into hers, giving it a faithful squeeze. "Is that all?"

She smirked, a small but satisfying smile. "No. You are my partner, my lover, my friend, and Maker help me… I am in love with you." Relieved tears fell freely from her eyes and she spoke just above a whisper. "I am yours."

A flush bloomed up from Marlena's chest to her face as he gazed into her eyes. Zevran lifted his other hand and brushed his fingers along her cheek, her slight shiver causing his hand to tap against her face. Her lips trembled as she smiled, smoldering heat spreading through her veins, rising flames of passion licking at her heart.

And her smile was radiant, well worth his earlier efforts. "_Tu sonrisa es bonita_. Your smile, it is a beautiful thing."

Tears prickled once again. "You know everything now."

He moved his hand to tuck strands of hair behind her ear, exposing the earring. "And I will stay by your side for as long as fate allows."

"It will never be enough time," she said, her voice cracking.

"I will make _certain_ it is enough, _querida_." There was no denying it now; she knew he felt the same way she did when he wrapped both of his hands around her fingers and clasped them tightly, pressing them to his chest.

Moments later, his fingers loosened and he released her hand, cupping her cheek and moving his head in for an anxious kiss. She leaned in to him, her heart pounding as he covered her lips with his, and she moaned softly as his tongue pushed deeper and swirled inside her mouth.

The change in his touch, raw lust replaced with untainted affection, no longer made her fear for a solitary future. She savored it now, delighting in the simple pleasure of being wanted and needed for days to come, a joy that had long since been denied and forgotten by both lovers.

Pulling back, Marlena laid her head on his chest, panting softly, and she listened to his heart beat as hard as her own.

Zevran stroked his hand from side to side across her back before murmuring her name. "Marlena?"

She moved closer to him, nuzzling his neck. "Hm?"

"_Bésame, _Marlena. Kiss me again."

His arms tightened around her as she trailed kisses along his throat up to his ear, nipping gently at its tip. She caressed his face, her fingers tracing the curved lines of his tattoo before palming his cheeks and pulling his lips onto hers. Marlena lost herself in the embrace, her eager hands threading through his hair as their tongues met and danced. Her lips shifted and dropped kisses along his shoulder; she inhaled the musky scent of his skin, always accented with cloves, taking pleasure in the sensation of his hands on her body, stoking desires deep within her.

She gathered her nightgown in her fists and straddled one of his legs, pressing herself against his chest and moving in to kiss him once more.

His hands reached beneath the cotton fabric and he breathed out a low hum, flexing his fingers against the soft skin of her back as her leg rubbed up against his hardness. "Ah q_uerida_, I could never stay away from you."

Pulling her nightgown over her head as he stood, he paused to stare at her perfect breasts before stripping off his breeches and flicking them to the side with his foot. "You will listen to my voice only, ignoring everything else, yes?"

She inhaled sharply and focused her gaze on him, longing to do as he asked. "I will."

Impatient for more, Zevran reached down and lifted her up, and then he settled on the bed, positioning her so that she was straddling both of his legs. He cupped a bottom cheek while his other hand caressed her breast, and she gasped, arching her back as he gently rubbed her swollen nipple. Taking advantage of her position, Zevran lowered his head and sucked hard, causing her to moan in pleasure as she rubbed her belly against him.

She held onto his shoulders, watching him with scarlet cheeks and lidded eyes. He looked up and palmed the nape of her neck, pulling her close and kissing her again while his other hand gently pushed down on her hip.

Lowering herself carefully, she delighted in the fullness of their coupling, the union of body and soul. As he moved deep inside her, she gasped and dug her nails into his back, pushing harder, sheathing him fully. He withdrew a little and then plunged into her again, her name rough on his lips. "Marlena, _mi belleza, _listen. _Oiga sólo mi voz_."

She moaned as he squeezed her hips and buried his face in her neck, kissing and sucking with reckless abandon. Her breasts pressed against his chest harder, his ministrations confirming unspoken vows.

"I love you, Zev, and I do hear you," she paused between whimpers, "I hear what's in your heart."

Her words drifted to his ear, and his heart surged with joy. He lifted her and pressed her back against the bed with the weight of his body, all the while pushing deeper and deeper, his precise strokes and soft moans a testimony as flesh moved against flesh. "Dígame, tell me more…."

"Zev… with you inside me now, after today," she breathed. "_Everything_ has changed."

Clinging to him, her hands held fast to his flanks, and she wanted to profess her love, her need, over and over again, but her eyes rolled back as her peak approached and all she could do was whisper his name in worship. "Zev, oh Zevran," she moaned through swollen lips that collided and moved in rhythm as she neared her climax.

Zevran groaned as her legs draped over his shoulders and deepened his thrusts while keeping a steady, languid pace, cries falling from their open mouths. Entangled together and fully immersed in her warmth, he ceased moving, locking his gaze onto hers to revel in their union, and then he breathed the words that swelled her heart. "_Te deseo, Marlena, te necesito... Te amo."_

The translation was clear in her mind, and her mouth covered his hungrily once again, urging him on to one final plunge of shared joy.

Pulsing with bliss, he kissed her forcefully as his release built.

"More, Zev, I want more of you…" she begged, his sweat-glistened muscles tightening with every thrust until it finished them both as they clung to one another, breaking through wave after wave, unleashing dual streams of murmured endearments.

Their bodies quivered with release and Zevran wrapped his arms around her tightly and rolled onto his back, pulling her atop him. He remained sheathed as they panted and shuddered with aftershocks, their bodies united as they calmed.

Slowly, Marlena moved to lie beside him, feeling wholly satisfied, and secure.

Zevran's fingers snaked up the side of her neck into her tousled curls, and Marlena cuddled closer to him, wrapping her leg around his, her breathing now shallow from fatigue.

"Maybe I should nap more often," she murmured.

"Only if you keep responding so spectacularly every time I wake you." He leaned in to kiss her before she fell asleep and her warm skin next to his, her finger tracing shapes on his shoulder, it was all so pleasing,_ so right, _so unlike anything he had ever experienced in his life. "And I don't mean by talking my ear off in deep conversation, yes?"

"I promise." She drew back and pressed her forehead against his. "Te amo, Zev."

Zevran smiled. "I love you, my Marlena." Cheek to cheek, they drifted into the Fade.


End file.
